


Crystal Wings

by IAmNotOneOfThem



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Deviates From Canon, Elf Lore, Fairy!Robbie, Fantasy, M/M, fae lore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-16 17:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9282596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmNotOneOfThem/pseuds/IAmNotOneOfThem
Summary: Something is draining the children and all humans in the lands of their energy. Elves are disappearing, leaving no trace behind. It is up to Sportacus and Robbie to find out what is happening and how to put a stop to it before it's too late...or: the high fantasy AU no one asked for





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [High Fantasy AU](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/255458) by Duke-Draws. 



> based on the wonderful high fantasy AU of duke-draws, which can be found here: http://duke-draws.tumblr.com/post/155385918422/please-tell-me-all-about-your-au-i-would-love-to
> 
> This is what happens when you let loose a fanfiction author whose special interest is worldbuilding, who loves Lord of the Rings and is currently obsessed with Lazytown.

When Sportacus returned to Lazytown, he could _feel_ in the air that something was wrong.

His crystal, nestled against his chest, beeped softly, its noise loud in the silence that seemed to have enveloped the town like snow. Sportacus flipped onto the nearest wall.

The first time he had come to Lazytown, called from his position as the town’s hidden guardian by Stephanie’s letter, after months of living in his airship, watching from above, it had been just like it was now. No one was playing outside; the playground lay abandoned, completely quiet. Lazytown seemed like a ghost town. Even the roads were empty, as if the whole town hadn’t been made for living, but as a kind of museum, a picturesque vision of a small town meant to be admired from afar.

He directed his gaze towards the sun. It stood high, nearly having reached its zenith; around this time of the day, the children normally were outside, playing. But they weren’t.

Sportacus jumped back on the ground and began searching. There probably was a very good reason; at least he hoped there would be. He hadn’t been there for a whole week; the meeting with the other _íþróttaálfar_ had taken longer than he expected, and without him there, Lazytown’s citizens weren’t given the extra energy that his crystal provided. By now, though, he had hoped their love for being active didn’t solemnly come from his magic anymore, but from within themselves.

Maybe they were simply having lunch. There was no reason to fear the worst just yet, though he couldn’t shake off the feeling that, like a snake, crept up his spine and settled around his throat to squeeze.

He didn’t even know what the worst he was mentally preparing himself for was. Death, abduction, sickness, catastrophe, anything, really. His crystal resonated against his chest, a buzz, meant to simultaneously calm him and nudge him onwards.

The fact it didn’t pick up any trouble didn’t exactly calm him. If anything, it made him even more nervous. It was apparent in the town’s aura, the faint waves of its energy, that something was wrong. It felt different, on a subconscious level he wouldn’t have been able to explain.

Sportacus landed on the cobblestone in front of the Mayor’s house and knocked. The sound of footsteps approaching reached Sportacus’ ears a few moments later. Another minute went by and Milford opened the wooden door, leaning against the doorframe heavily.

The elf blinked.

“Hello Sportacus!” The Mayor greeted, then yawned. Sportacus winced when it caused a _cracking noise_ from Milford’s jaw that made Sportacus’ pointed ears twitch in shock. “I see you’re back from your meeting.”

“Yes…” The elf trailed off, taking in the sight in front of him. He couldn’t remember ever seeing the Mayor in his sleeping clothes at this hour of the day, nor ever seeing him with such tired eyes. The man’s posture, his whole being, read lethargic. “Are you not feeling well?”

“I’m just tired,” Milford yawned. “Is there something I can help you with? I was just taking a nap…”

“A nap?” Sportacus asked, sounding scandalised. “It’s noon! You should be out and about, not… _napping_.” He peered over the human’s shoulder when he heard someone run down the stairs. A moment later, Stephanie flung herself at the hero, the impact enough to make Sportacus stumble backwards a step. “Stephanie!”

“I’m glad you’re back!” She said and something about her voice made Sportacus freeze. Gently, he put her back down, getting on his knee so he was on eye-level. Her magic, always a faint layer wrapped around her slender frame, not yet as strong and permanent as it would be, one day, when she finished her training, was quivering nervously. “Something is wrong!”

“What is it?” Sportacus asked. He turned his head, scanning their surroundings, but even with his keen eyes, he couldn’t see anything unusual, if one did not count the lack of running children. His crystal didn’t pick up on any immediate danger either, but that didn’t have to mean anything. The danger could already have been gone by now, and all that was left for him was to pick up the shards, deal with the aftermath.

Stephanie gently took his hand and pulled him along, far enough away from her uncle’s house so he wouldn’t hear them. Then she leant in close to whisper into his ear. “Everyone is lazy again.”

Well, he could see that himself. But the way she said it made him think there was more to it than them simply relaxing. It sounded like it was something serious. “Do you know why?”

She shook her head. “It started a few days after you left,” Stephanie began. “At first I could convince them to go outside and play, but the others started being tired more and more and this morning I couldn’t get them to leave the house.”

“That doesn’t sound good at all,” he agreed. “Something _is_ wrong!”

“I tried… you know.” She wiggled her fingers and sparks of magic, like tiny little stars of glitter, flew from her fingertips. “But I don’t have enough control of it yet…” Stephanie lowered her head, looking guilty.

“It’s alright, Stephanie.” Sportacus gently squeezed her shoulder and gave her a reassuring smile. “You’re still an apprentice. Give it some more time, and you’ll be a masterful witch.”

He wasn’t quite sure where her supernatural heritage came from. Neither her parents, two ordinary humans, nor her uncle had the gift, but it was known to skip generations, sometimes remaining dormant for centuries until it emerged again. The non-human blood in Stephanie’s veins wasn’t much, but it was enough for her to be magical. He suspected she had a pixie ancestor, but couldn’t be sure.

The young girl visibly perked up at his words. “I hope so!” But then she deflated again. She turned her head, eying the playground. “I don’t know why they’re like this.”

“Did they have too much sugar?”

She shook her head. “Only a little. We were eating lots of sportscandy.”

Sportacus frowned and twirled his moustache with a finger. “Then I’m at loss as well. But-“ He held up a finger before putting his hands on his hips with a big grin, his signature move. “We’ll find out what’s going on and everything will go back to normal!”

Stephanie bounced. “They’re all at Pixel’s place, let’s go!”

Just as the apprentice witch had said, all the other children were sitting in Pixel’s room, not even playing games, as they sometimes did, but _lying_ , doing _nothing_. They didn’t even react as Sportacus threw open the door beyond a tired wave of their hands. Sportacus stared.

He lifted a hand to his crystal. The gesture wasn’t necessary – the moment he had sat foot into Pixel’s room, his crystal had started blinking, the light, invisible to the human eye, spreading out and filling the room – but he found comfort in it. The light expanded, brushed over the humans’ auras and merged, sinking into their souls. For a moment, they seemed to glow from within. Then, the light was gone again. Much to Sportacus’ surprise, and horror, the crystal’s energy didn’t change much. Trixie sat up, but that seemed to require much more energy than it should have. She looked completely exhausted. The other children, Sportacus observed, didn’t fare much better. They radiated tiredness that went deeper than ordinary sleepiness, seemed to have settled in their bones. Dark shadows were under their eyes, which were reddened. They seemed thinner, weak and without energy.

Something was _definitely_ wrong.

“See?” Stephanie asked, poking him in the side. “They’ve been like this the last two days! If I didn’t bring them any food, they wouldn’t even manage to do that.”

Sportacus flipped over the couch to closer inspect the kids. “Are you guys sick?” They shook their heads. “Have you not been sleeping well?” Again, they shook their heads. “Then… what is it?” The children shrugged. Sportacus gritted his teeth in frustration and stepped away again. He turned to Stephanie, trying to look confident for her sake. If he started worrying, she would too. “How are you feeling, Stephanie?”

She didn’t answer right away, forehead furrowed in concentration. “I’m feeling fine?” She finally replied. “A bit more tired than usual, but not like them.”

Sportacus blinked, and the world shifted into bright colours. Or rather, would have, normally, had everything been the same as before he left.

The children’s auras were washed-out, bleak, having lost their energetic shine. Only Stephanie’s pink was as bright as it used to be, though it too was greying at the edges. Sportacus reached out and it reacted; he did the same with the other children’s. They didn’t even twitch.

There was no way his absence alone could have caused this.

He was sure he’d never seen humans like this, not even those that were sickly or dying. They’ve never been like this, this… _drained_.

Sportacus frowned. Then he walked towards the door. “Stay here with them, please, and call for me if their condition gets any worse.”

“Where are you going?”

He gave her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I have to check on the other citizens to figure out what’s going on.”

With a last squeeze of her shoulder, Sportacus left. He headed right for Robbie’s lair.

\------------

He hadn’t as much found the fae as the fae had found him, back when Sportacus first arrived. It had taken ten minutes, at most, before a man dressed in purple, maroon and pink had stormed towards them. The first thing Sportacus had thought, then, was how weird those clothes were and how they, despite that, fit the man perfectly. Maybe it had been the pinkish eye shadow, or the way the man carried himself. He was tall, towering over Sportacus by half a head, his dark hair gelled back in a pompadour. His purple collar stood up high, nearly reaching his ears; its seams golden with embroidery running along the lines. There were symbols on his shirt, in a language Sportacus didn’t understand, but seemed familiar. His vest had golden buttons and stripes, coloured purple and pink, matching the purple of his trousers, which, too, were striped. Sportacus’ gaze was drawn to the bright pink at the bottom, the height of his heels, but always returned back to the intricate design at the man’s shoulder, staring at it as if doing so would help him recognise what it was.

The second thought, which, he had realised, should have been the first, actually, was that there was a _fae_ in Lazytown.

It was relatively rare to find one of Skaði’s and Eiður’s children so far away from the enchanted forests they called their home, so close to civilisation. Even more so to find one of the Unseelie, as evidenced by the golden lines that adorned the fae’s clothes, which Sportacus recognised only now, living in a human settlement. They weren’t exactly known for their love of humans; the opposite was the case. Unless they were seeking to hurt them, the fae tended to avoid anything human, preferring to remain in hiding.

He had feared for the worst, then. The pranks of the fair folk were always dangerous, even more so of the malevolent court. But Robbie – most certainly not the fae’s real name – had wanted one thing only: Peace and quiet.

It seemed that this time, he found a way to get what he wanted.

\------------

The way to Robbie’s lair was hidden behind a large billboard, covered in vines and other kinds of plants, half of which weren’t native to this place, but, so he assumed, had been put there by Robbie himself. The entrance itself was a small metal hatch, with a wheel one had to turn to pry it open. The few times Sportacus had been there, it had never been locked.

Carefully, Sportacus began to descend down the chute, climbing instead of sliding. With every inch that he went further down, the more prominent became the feeling of _inhospitality_ that rose in his chest. He wasn’t wanted here. Robbie’s magic lingered in the air as a silent warning, a reminder.

He was entering fae territory.

When he saw the ground below him, Sportacus jumped down, landing on his feet. A shiver went up his spine, a tingling sensation caused by the foreign, almost hostile magic that enveloped the whole place.

Or maybe it was the two-metre-high flesh-eating plant that stood right in front of him, complete with long, sharp teeth and thick roots that reached for him.

It shot forward, opening its massive mouth to swallow Sportacus, but the elf did a backflip out of its reach. The plant retreated, looking like it was pouting.

“I haven’t fed that one yet, so I’d advise you to stay away.”

Sportacus jumped at the sound of Robbie’s voice coming from further away. He turned around, eyes finding the purple-striped suit of the fae almost immediately – it wasn’t hard to miss.

Robbie was standing with his back turned to Sportacus, surrounded by a variety of plants, one deadlier and more dangerous-looking than the other. Sportacus was pretty sure he saw one of them chew on something that looked like the tail of a mouse, but didn’t even want to contemplate that. The fact that Robbie apparently liked carnivorous plants shouldn’t have surprised him as much as it did.

“Do I even want to know?” He asked, taking another step backwards, for safety reasons. The way the plant was eying him hungrily didn’t sit well with the elf.

“No,” Robbie replied after a few moments. “Though what I’d like to know is what you are doing in my lair.”

He didn’t sound angry, which Sportacus took as a good sign. One should never disturb a fae’s lair without explicit permission. It was one of the things everyone knew, but Sportacus had other, more important things to worry about.

So far, it didn’t look like Robbie was about to curse him.

“The children have been quiet the last few days, haven’t they?” Sportacus asked. Though he tried to keep his voice neutral, some of the anger building up in him seeped into his voice, making it harder than he had intended.

He could see the exact moment Robbie grew suspicious.

The fae put down the vial in his hand and turned to face Sportacus, one of his eyebrows raised, tension visible in his jaw. Sportacus felt the crackle of magic stirring awake, preparing for an attack or defence, whatever would be necessary. He’d never get used to feeling fae magic. There was nothing comparable amongst the eighteen elf clans.

Instinctually, Sportacus let his own magic rush through his veins, preparing, just like Robbie, for what might come. If possible, he’d like to avoid a fight.

“What, pray tell, do you think I did?” Robbie asked. Sportacus didn’t need to _look_ to see Robbie’s signature flare, filling the room. He felt it on his skin, cut off his air supply.

“The children do not have any energy,” Sportacus replied. “Literally, no energy. They’re not simply tired. It’s like they were drained.”

Robbie raised an eyebrow. “And you think I did it.”

“Did you?”

The fae tilted his head. For a few moments, neither of them said anything out loud, their conversation held through small facial expressions. Then Robbie rolled his eyes. “No, I did not.”

Sportacus’ shoulders sunk down. Being the children of the patron of honesty, fae could not lie. They could avoid an answer, could deceive and trick, twist words in ways no other species could, courtesy of their other parent, patron of mischief, the Trickster, but they couldn’t lie. Robbie was telling the truth.

That, however, meant he was back to where he had started – not knowing what was going on.

“We have to find out what’s happening,” he said after a while.

Robbie gave him a look. “Have you lost your mind? _We_?”

“You have to help me, Robbie! Something is seriously wrong.”

"What's the problem? They're lazy now. It's beautifully quiet." Robbie hummed happily. “I got so much sleep the last days. Let them stay that way. Far less noise and trouble.”

"It’s like something is literally sucking out all of their energy."

"So?" 

Sportacus glared. "It could kill them, Robbie."

“So?”

“ ** _Robbie_**.”

The fae threw up his hands in frustration and turned his back to Sportacus again, acting like the elf wasn’t even there. Sportacus let out a breath of air. It was like dealing with a petulant child. A child with powerful magic.

“You can’t just do nothing!”

“Watch me,” Robbie said with a shrug. “You’re the hero, not me.”

Sportacus was torn between two options: Throwing something at the back of the fae’s head, so he would stop acting so childishly, or leave.

Neither of those would help him solve the problem at hand.

“Robbie,” he began, stepping closer to the fae. Robbie didn’t react, but Sportacus could tell he was paying attention. “This is serious. I have no idea what is causing this, but whatever it is, it can’t be good. Not even my crystal can animate them.”

“Maybe you should go fix it and stop pestering me, then.”

“There’s nothing-“ Sportacus mentally counted to ten before he continued. “It’s only the humans that are affected. Stephanie feels it too, but not to the extent the other children are.”

“The humans are your kind’s responsibility, not mine.”

Sportacus counted to twenty. “Look, I’m not supposed to tell anyone outside my clan…”

The shift in Robbie was immediate. The fae stopped doing whatever he was doing to appear busy and tilted his head to the side. “Tell anyone what?”

He could always count on Robbie’s curiosity.

“A handful of heroes from our clan went missing,” Sportacus began to explain quietly, voice barely above a whisper. “That’s why they called in a meeting with all of the heroes, numbered or not, all the elves that do not live in our village anymore. No one knows where the missing elves went or what happened. There are no traces of them, neither physical nor magical. They just disappeared. Our elders cannot reach their crystals either.”

Robbie tilted his head further. The light caught his eyes, making them appear silver. “You think there’s a connection?”

Sportacus nodded grimly. “It doesn’t feel like a coincidence. Something is going on and I need your help.”

The fae considered it for a while, the way he was thinking visible in his face. Sportacus shifted his weight from one foot to the other, itching for movement. He didn’t like standing still for too long, as was normal for his kind. The urge to do some sit-ups was strong, but if he did, Robbie would probably throw him out immediately.

“Fine,” Robbie finally said. Sportacus began bouncing happily, opening his mouth to say something, but Robbie held up a hand to shut him up and glared. Sportacus held still almost immediately. “I’ll help you, but it has a prize.”

Sportacus nodded.

The fair folk did nothing for free; it was always an exchange of favours, a deal. They did something for you, they expected something in return. He’d figured as much. “What do you want?”

Robbie hummed, tapping his chin thoughtfully for three minutes, not that Sportacus was counting. Then he shrugged. “I’ll think of something. Let’s get this over with.” He tried to sound annoyed, uncaring, but Sportacus could hear the underlying fear in his voice.

He wisely kept his mouth shut, simply following Robbie out of the lair.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for taking so long, but the end of the semester is approaching and that means exams. Still, I wanted to give you this chapter! In case you're wondering about all the names I'm using, don't worry, the lore will be explained sooner or later.

Robbie’s approach to trying to fix whatever was wrong with the children was… _different_ from what Sportacus had done.

“Get up,” the fae said for the tenth time since they had arrived in Pixel’s room and nudged Ziggy with the tip of his shoe. Just like he had the previous nine attempts, Ziggy did not react beyond a mumble of something under his breath, curling up even further into a tiny exhausted ball of blue, red and blonde.

“I don’t think that’s going to work,” Stephanie said from her position next to Trixie, also for the tenth time since Robbie had entered the room with Sportacus in tow.

Robbie turned to glare at her with shining, silvery eyes and scoffed. “Are you a real, fully trained magic user?”

“I’m an appren-“

“So no, you’re not. Tell me, have you ever dealt with an issue of obvious magical nature?” Stephanie didn’t respond, but simply pouted. Robbie gave her a smug look. “Then don’t question whether what I am doing works or doesn’t work. Leave that to the grown-ups.”

Stephanie threw her hands up in frustration and turned back to Trixie, trying to coax her into getting up, though no matter how much she shook her friend and mumbled encouraging words, it wasn’t happening. The sight of the children being this lethargic, this _sickly-looking_ and weak, made Sportacus feel incredibly worried, the feeling heavy in his stomach as if he had swallowed stones. It was, without a doubt, something that Sportacus hadn’t been trained to do, a problem he would not be able to solve, at least not the way he usually did. No amount of sportscandy, no amount of singing and dancing, would be able to give the children back the energy they had somehow lost.

 _That had been stolen from them_ , by what, Sportacus didn’t know. Whatever _it_ was, whether it was a sickness or a curse, it loomed over them, a shadow, intangible and invisible, but noticeable still, brushing over Sportacus’ magic in what could only be understood as a taunt. The moment Sportacus tried to reach for it, it slipped through his fingers, a ghost, mist that couldn’t be caught. He gritted his teeth, swallowing down the frustration that tasted like bile in his throat.

Robbie nudged Ziggy again with his foot, strongly enough to draw an “Oof” from the young boy, but nothing more. Robbie stepped backwards and, very pointedly not looking in Stephanie’s direction, said: “I don’t think this is going to work.”

Sportacus could almost hear Stephanie roll her eyes.

“Do you have any idea what could have caused this?” Sportacus asked, shooting Stephanie a look that asked her to stay silent. The last thing he needed was a sulking fae on top of _dying children_. He couldn’t be sure that whatever was going on was dangerous to the children’s lives, but his gut had never led him astray. If there was one thing Græðandi taught the _íþróttaálfar_ , it was to rely on their instincts. Right now, said instincts were running amok, but what he got out of their almost incoherent, incomprehensible _screaming_ was that the situation was _serious_.

Robbie snorted. “I can tell you that you were right about them being drained,” he said. “With enough concentration, I _might_ even be able to follow the pull to its source.”

“Pull? Source?” Stephanie repeated confused.

“Someone or something,” the fae explained in the same annoyed voice he used for ninety percent of his interactions with other sentient beings, the exception being Robbie’s plants, “is literally _sucking the energy out of your little friends_ as we speak. This someone or something is pulling said energy somewhere to do something undoubtedly evil and nasty, given how it makes use of children’s life forces to power its scheme. If left to do as it pleases, it might kill everyone you love and more.”

Stephanie stared, mouth hanging open in shock. Sportacus tried to think of something to say, something that would sound reassuring, but before he could, Stephanie began to cry.

The elf gave Robbie an accusing glare as he rushed forward to wrap his arms around the apprentice witch, pulling her close in a hug. Robbie, at least, had the decency to look guilty, averting his eyes and directing his gaze to the window.

“It’s going to be alright, Stephanie,” Sportacus said quietly, pressing kisses to her pink hair. “I won’t let that happen. Robbie and I will do everything in our power to fix this and before you know, everyone will be healthy and energetic again.” He turned his head just enough to look at Robbie, daring him to say otherwise. For once, the fae didn’t argue. “Don’t worry, I’ll save them.”

“Promise?” Stephanie sniffed, voice muffled against the fabric of Sportacus’ shirt.

“Promise,” Sportacus said softly, squeezing her. She did not seem to notice the way his voice trembled.

The weight of a _lie_ lay heavy in the air; not a lie as one would tell when trying to hide the truth, its weight different, more oppressive from what he had said, but one told out of the need to protect. The truth was Sportacus didn’t know if he could keep his promise; he’d try, he would try with all his might, but by Urðar, _trying_ was sometimes not enough. The _truth_ was that he was far from being as confident as he made Stephanie believe. A _lie was a lie was a lie_ , no matter the motivation behind it, he knew that. For all his preaching about how important telling the truth was, he didn’t regret letting the false promise slip from his tongue. Seeing Stephanie calm slowly, crying less and less from moment to moment, the shake of her body diminishing until it was but a light quiver, made it worth it.

Sportacus turned his head and caught Robbie’s eyes. The fae studied Sportacus’ face intently before nodding. He didn’t need to hear the words spoken out loud to understand what Robbie meant.

The fae, he had been capable of it, would have done the same.

“Give me a few hours and I can tell you where you have to go,” Robbie said, looking back out of the window.

“You’re coming with me.”

Robbie’s head whipped around so fast the motion nearly made Sportacus feel dizzy. “Pardon?”

“I said,” Sportacus repeated, voice stern and tense, “you’re coming with me.”

“And why would I do that?”

The feeling of magic gathering around Robbie’s form returned. It was nowhere as strong as it had been in his lair, where, due to it being his home, where he spent most of his time when he wasn’t outside scheming, Robbie’s magic had seeped into the walls, into the ground, the _air_. But still; fae were more magical creatures than elves, stronger when it came to the arts. It didn’t bode well with Sportacus to literally feel Robbie’s magic wrap itself around the fae’s body preparing to strike.

“You said you’d help me.”

Robbie snorted. “Which I plan on doing by telling you where to go. In no way did you mention me going along with you.”

Sportacus gritted his teeth, the sound absurdly loud in his ears. He’d expanded his senses as much as humanly – _elvenly_ – possible, listening for any sign of trouble, of something he could actually go and fix. It came with the added bonus of hearing Stephanie’s heart calm, ever so slowly, while Robbie’s picked up speed.

“We were tasked with protecting this world and humankind by our patron, Græ—“

“—Yes, yes,” Robbie said, waving his hand. “I don’t care.”

The _íþróttaálfur_ snapped his mouth shut with an audible click of teeth and released a long breath through his nose. The urge to pick Robbie up by his vest and shake him until he stopped being so difficult was strong, but with practised ease, he swallowed it down. As tempting as it sounded, it would have the opposite effect of what he wanted.

Still, he could not stop himself from asking “You don’t care about the children dying?” in an angry voice.

Robbie looked back out of the window. “Think of how quiet it would be,” he hummed. “No more running around and yelling.”

_He hadn’t answered the question directly._

The fae seemed to be aware that Sportacus had noticed, as he bristled, the invisible aura of his magic flickering like the air above flames. It was uncomfortable to look at, a strain in Sportacus’ eyes he stubbornly endured so he could glare at the back of Robbie’s head, hoping, very much, that the fae could feel his anger.

“You know as well as I do that I cannot do this alone! If you don’t help, they…” He squeezed Stephanie gently, wishing that she didn’t have to hear all of that. “…they might… not make it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Robbie snarled. “You don’t even know for certain it’s fatal. It could be gone tomorrow and then you’d have dragged me gods know where for nothing.”

Sportacus found himself re-considering his decision not to throw Robbie against the nearest wall. Normally, he’d find the very thought of losing his temper, acting out of anger, uncomfortable, disgusting even, but in a situation like this he could forgive himself for it.

“Why are you so adamant about being difficult?” The elf blurted out. “Would it hurt you to stop being so… so... _selfish_ for one moment to do something good?”

Robbie turned his head just enough for Sportacus to see pointed teeth bared in threat. “In case you have forgotten, Sportaidiot, I’m _Unseelie_. It’s not really within my kind to be nice.”

“I’m not asking you to be nice! I’m asking you to help me save lives!”

“And what’s in it for me?”

Sportacus stared. “The children are _dying!_ They’re dying and all you can think about is what you can gain from the situation!”

The fae’s eyes flashed silver for a moment. There was something about him that Sportacus couldn’t put a finger on quite yet, something lying right underneath the obvious. His instincts told him to look more closely, to _look_ properly, but Robbie’s magic hindered him from doing so, almost as if on purpose to hide something.

He couldn’t believe Robbie did not care. For all his grumpy and annoyed behaviour, he’d always thought that Robbie liked the children, at least a little. Otherwise, he wouldn’t continue playing with them – his excuse of trying to get rid of Sportacus might have worked with the children, but not with Sportacus, who knew that Robbie could easily magick him away if he so wanted.

So why did he act like he didn’t care that the four were sick?

Was he too proud?

“It’s okay to admit you’re scared.”

Sportacus turned to stare wide-eyed at Stephanie who had lifted her head off his shoulder and was looking at Robbie with sympathy in her eyes. Robbie spluttered and opened his mouth to protest, but Stephanie cut him off.

“I’m scared too,” she continued, wiping her face with the back of a hand. “I’m really scared. They… they look so sick and you said they might be dying and…” She sniffed. “I know acting like you don’t care is easier than admitting you’re worried, but it’s okay. Sportacus said he’d find a way to fix this and I believe him. But he cannot do this without your help.”

“I don’t—“ Robbie began but didn’t finish the sentence. Sportacus knew why; he couldn’t lie.

The apprentice witch straightened up and suddenly, it was like she was surrounded by a kind of energy that made her appear so much older than she really was. Not older, Sportacus corrected himself almost immediately, looking at her in wonder and _pride_ , but _wiser_ , so much more than an eight-year-old should be. “I know,” she just said and Sportacus believed that she truly understood, even when he himself didn’t. “You don’t have to explain yourself. It’s fine. Just… Sportacus needs your help. They-“ She gestured to her friends. “-need your help… _I_ need your help. So please, please help. They can’t… they can’t die…”

Sportacus hugged her close as new tears ran down her face. She cried silently, clinging to the elf, her gaze remaining on Robbie. The fae squirmed uncomfortably.

He didn’t know how much time passed. His internal clock, guided by Urðar’s weaving, was messed up by all that had happened today, but it wasn’t dark outside yet. Counting his heartbeats wouldn’t work, either, as it was pounding rapidly in his chest, all but throwing itself against his ribcage, trying to get out. While a fae’s senses weren’t as sharp as Sportacus’ kind, he was relatively certain Robbie could hear it thunder, pumping blood through his veins.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity passing, Robbie gave a short, sharp nod before turning his back to the elf and witch once more.

“What—“

“We should leave at dawn,” Robbie interrupted. “The road will be long.”

“Do you know where we are going?” Sportacus asked instead of the thousand questions rushing through his brain – Why was he agreeing? What had made him change his mind?

Robbie shook his head. “I told you, it would take a lot of _concentration_. Something I won’t be able to do with all the talking going on here.”

“Right now only you and I are talking,” Sportacus pointed out.

“That’s more than enough talking already.”

Sportacus rolled his eyes. With his next breath, he could feel most of the tension in his shoulders fade, disappear with the air he breathed out and returned to the trees. It felt good, better than it logically should have, to be bickering again. It certainly was much more comfortable than the shouting they had done only moments ago; it was familiar, soothing, like the faint glow of his crystal against his chest.

“There are things I have to do before we’re leaving,” Robbie said. “I’ll meet you when the sun starts its descent and Kveldúlfur begins his hunt.” He snapped his fingers and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

Sportacus looked at Stephanie and shrugged. The way she smiled and chuckled made him think that maybe, Urðar and Ósklín were smiling down upon them and everything would turn out to be alright.


End file.
